by Rose Flint
The year is closing down; days die on their feet,
nights are cold and distant with scathing winds
that knife our warmth of certainties, our small
candlepowers of love. In this deep hour
our dreams seem charred beyond repair,
hearth-flames offer nothing more than failing light
inside a tightening circle as darkness
takes the world within her hand, and squeezes.
So Ceridwen lifts her scythe of ice to cut beyond
blind bones, dissect the fluttering, frightened soul.
Now, she whispers, now, in this freezing zone
of emptiness, stand naked and alone,
peeled back to your Shadow. Understand
that you too are a part of darkness and you can see
into its heart if you look with inner vision. Now
begin the work of deep compassion, reconciliation,
the wisdom that will turn the world towards
its next, intended cycle: as dark and light are held
within the same instant of a crow wing, silver-sheened.
Winner of numerous awards for poetry including the Cardiff International Poetry Competition, she has four collections. Her first was Blue Horse of Morning (Seren) followed by Firesigns (Poetry Salzburg) which uses the Wheel of the Year to frame poems that move through the brightness and potential of Imbolc, to the fire of Beltane and the thoughtfulness of Lammas into the ancestral places of Samhain, and beyond.
Nekyia (Stride) is an extended meditation on the changes that time makes to a a woman, to a marriage, to land. Taking the form of a quest the poems move through an inner, spiritual journey.
Mother of Pearl (PSAvalon) contains poems in praise of the Goddess, mothers and daughters, witches, healers - and always Grandmother Earth.